


Angel Mother

by chromyrose



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Babies, Gen, HSWC Bonus Round, Homelessness, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1921230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Handmaid is a young and new mother who recently escaped from the cruel treatment of her dead former employer/legal guardian and his mansion. The Handmaid is without an education and was never taught how to properly communicate. She desperately tries to find shelter for herself and her young baby, Aradia, in the cruel streets of Los Angeles."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel Mother

**Author's Note:**

> for the 2014 HSWC Bonus Round 3

Hana Megido sits on one of the busiest Los Angeles intersections, and she is dead to the world. She feels dead; she is dirty, smells bad even to herself, and her body is limp with exhaustion. She cannot sleep during the day, or else no one will leave money, and at night it is too dark, too dangerous, and she is too wary to rest. 

Aradia gurgles softly in her sleep, drool oozing down her chin; she looks to be without a care in the world, and for that, at least, Hana is grateful. She has been a failure at nearly everything since she gave birth, but she has managed to keep Aradia warm, fed, and alive. That is why she keeps any hope at all, why there's a sign written on a piece of scraped cardboard in front of their little bundle of blankets and baby formula:

No Job, No Home, Three Month Baby, Please Help.

Most people walk past; some leave loose change, fewer leave crumpled bills. One woman brought her a baby bag with essentials: formula, nipples, diapers, clothes, and food for Hana herself, so that she could still nurse. But the food ran out, and so did Hana's milk. She pawned off her few belongings to buy the necessities for Aradia's first months. Those had long since run out.

Hana wipes the drool from Aradia's chin with the corner of one of her swaddling blankets, and she catches herself smiling. This baby girl is the light of her life, the only light in her life. She smiled at her for the first time that week, and it made Hana cry the whole night. Sometimes she is fussy, but somehow Hana thinks she understands; she keeps her fussing and crying to a minimum, and mostly she just fists her hand in her mother's shirt, keeping her anchored. 

The change in the tin jingles and when Hana looks up, it's to well tailored pants straightening into long legs. The man is holding her tin, and she is about to lash out, to scream, but Aradia's weight reminds her, _don't jostle me_.

“This is hardly enough for a growing infant,” the man scowls into the tin, before Hana can speak. “She could be malnourished.”

“She is mine,” Hana growls, and she knows it is feral but there is no one, _no one_ , who will take Aradia from her unless it is over her dead body. The man barely flinches; his long hair is swept into a slick black ponytail, he is clean-shaven, and his suit has little pinstripes. Hana wants to spit on his shiny leather shoes, but her mouth is dry. He looks at her, a bit bemused. 

“You do not seem like you are on any drugs,” he comments. “Is she healthy?”

“We're fine,” Hana croaks. The man purses his lips. 

“I do not think you're in any position to decide that. Give her to me.”

Hana holds Aradia tightly to her bosom, and the man sighs. He reaches into his pocket, and takes out a wallet. But he does not pass her money; instead, he hands her a card.

Archippos Zahhak

Neo-Natal and Pediatric Medicine

Children's Hospital Los Angeles

His stare is intense, and he kneels down to get a better look. Reluctantly, Hana holds her daughter out for him to see, and he takes her carefully in his arms.

“She seems well,” he tries to sound soft, but it sounds mostly clinical. “Come with me, we will go to the hospital and give her a full check up.”

“We cannot afford that,” Hana snarls. “We cannot...”

“I will not charge you. And I will pay the nurses and medical fees out of my own pocket. You will come with me, have a shower, a warm meal. We will get you in talks with a hospital social worker,” Archippos says firmly.

As his words sink in, Hana looks to her baby; Aradia is blinking awake with a little frown as she adjusts to her surroundings. When she sees her mother, she smiles, and Hana knows that now her pride is truly worth nothing, so she has to let go.

“Okay.”


End file.
